


A Shot and a Slice

by orphan_account



Series: Mirror!verse Fills [4]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Bloodplay, Control Issues, Domestic Violence, Drinking, M/M, Mirror Universe, Painplay, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-12-30 05:06:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1014438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dark take on the prompt: Mirrorverse McKirk where they get wasted and wind up fucking. </p><p>Or, James gets drunk after a hard day and takes his frustrations out on Bones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Shot and a Slice

Jim’s been drinking steadily since his shift ended. And a few hours later, once Bones has gotten out of surgery, Jim has him escorted to their quarters. He orders Bones to his knees and strips the doctor himself, peeling away each piece of clothing like it’s a dermal layer. Stripping Bones bear. And when Jim takes out that knife, Bones know how the rest of their evening is going to unfold. There must have been trouble on the bridge. Somebodies pissed their sadistic captain off. And Bones will be the one to face the consequences. The one Jim can take his anger out on. The only one who can take it.

For every cut Jim takes a shot. Bones continues to tense but his whimpering had stopped a while ago. Now he’s just breathing through it. Feeling the blood seep out of his skin and run in thin rivulets down his shoulder or pectoral muscle or wherever Jim’s just cut. Sometimes Jim wipes it away with his thumb, other times he licks Bones’ body clean. Then he’ll set the knife down. Slowly pour a shot of that Bourbon Bones likes. He slowly lifts the shot glass to Bones’ plush lips, waiting expectantly.

Bones wishes he could refuse. The Bourbon is only serving to dull his senses – as well as his awareness and potential control over the situation. Not that Bones minds that much because it’s also dulling the pain.

But Jim’s trying to make the two feelings merge; weaving together pain and pleasure. He wants this to feel  _good_  for Bones. Because Jim’d  _never_  hurt Bones. He murmurs something gentle, encouraging,  _open up Bones, come on pet_ and so Bones parts his lips, lets Jim guide his chin back. Embraces the burn. Next, Jim takes the knife to Bones’ shoulder blade and the doctor  _does_  whimper.  _Please, stop._ He whispers.

Jim’s eyes and lips are smiling down at Bones as he takes a swig directly from the bottle and then pours another shot into Bones’ glass.  _How do you feel, Bones? Do you want more?_ Bones shakes his head emphatically.  _What do you want?_ Jim whispers softly.

 _I wanna feel you, Jim_ Bones replies, voice slurring, his breath coming fast in jarred little shudders.

He kisses Bones’ forehead, rubs his thumb along the slice he’s carved in Bones’ shoulder blade. Then Jim slips his thumb into Bones’ mouth. Bones sucks at it. Laps up the trace of his own blood and then tilts his head to accept Jim’s kiss. Jim must be drunk because it takes him more effort than usual to lift Bones onto his unsteady, foal-like, legs. Jim guides Bones to the kitchenette, shifts his hips until the doctor’s lent against the counter top.

The steal is cold against Bones’ back and wet in places where Bones’ cuts are still bleeding. He automatically hitches his legs up, drawing Jim closer to him. His dark hair falls into his eyes. As if his vision wasn’t blurred enough. Then Jim leans forward, blanketing Bones’ torso. He’s kissing Bones’ neck and Bones can hear himself keen. It seems outside of him though, a background noise that Bones does not have the ability to control.

Jim pins Bones’ wrists down, his forearms held firm against the doctor’s.

He’s way too gone to prep Bones properly, but he uses a liberal dose of lube to slick himself up and trace around Bones’ hole. It’s over quickly. Bones would make a jibe but he just feels  _wrecked_ , and his neck is bruised from the way he’s slightly too long for the counter and his head has edged over the side with the force of Jim’s thrusts.

 _You’re perfect, Bones_. Jim whispers, biting bruises around one particularly deep cut that is still bleeding somewhat. He takes another swig of Bourbon, offering the bottle to Bones.

The doctor takes the bottle, gulping. The burn of it against his raw throat makes him hiss. But if it makes sleep come faster, if he can get away from the nightmare of the day, he’ll drink as much as Jim will give him. 


End file.
